


Knock, Knock, Knockin' on My Neighbour's Door

by mickeysbubblebutt (brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, M/M, based on this random prompt i found on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:44:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4157460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly/pseuds/mickeysbubblebutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt:  I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knock, Knock, Knockin' on My Neighbour's Door

Mickey Milkovich was trying to sleep. He’d been doing the bar tending gig for just over six months now, and the hours usually worked for him. The whole ‘morning person’ spiel had never been his thing; he liked the late wake ups and even later nights better than any nine to five job he could’ve gotten.

So, for the most part, everything worked out. Only this morning, things seemed to be going to hell.

Grimacing irritably, Mickey cast a glare at the neighbouring apartment. The walls were pretty thin, so he could hear just about everything that happened next door.

And it sounded like someone was being killed in there.

The quiet of the morning had been shattered by a loud yelping sound, coupled with a resounding crash.

_Jesus Christ, what the hell was goin’ on in there?_

There were a few more thuds, muffled yelling, and then silence. Mickey wasn’t sure if he ought to be concerned or grateful.

_Not my problem_ , he decided after a moment.

He’d just settled himself more comfortably in bed, reaching desperately for some shut-eye, when there he heard the sound of frantic knocking. It sounded… shit, it was right outside his apartment.

“Fuck off,” he yelled.  _Jesus, it was only 7:30. Didn’t normal people have jobs to get to?_

The knocking didn’t let up.

Swearing under his breath, Mickey clambered out of bed. Somebody had better be dying; if not, he was going to kick his neighbour’s ass.

“What?” Mickey barked as he yanked the apartment door open.

“Uh, hi.”

It wasn’t often that Mickey was struck speechless. Bluster was kind of his thing, his fallback reaction to almost any situation he found himself in. 

So, to say that he was surprised to find the guy from next door–who he’d only seen a couple times in passing–standing there bare ass naked would be an understatement.

_And, well, fuck it. He was only human._

Before Mickey could stop himself, his gaze was trailing helplessly down all that pale skin, from neighbour guy’s red hair and bright green eyes, taking in the light dusting of freckles covering him everywhere, and lingering on those big, strategically placed hands.

_Goddamn._

Dragging his eyes back up to the guy’s face, he found himself flushing. The redhead was grinning, an odd mixture of sheepish and cocky.

Mickey wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

“What?” he asked again, his voice slightly hoarse.

“This is kinda embarrassing,” neighbour guy began. Sheepish appeared to be winning out over his expression. “I’m Ian, I live next door. You’re… you’re Mickey, right?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So, I dunno if you heard the commotion a couple minutes ago?”

“The commotion that made it seem like you were tryin’ to pull a demo on your apartment? Might’ve heard since it sounded like it was happenin’ right next to my head.”

Neighbour Guy, who apparently also went by Ian, pulled a face.

“Right. That. I kinda need your help.”

“No offense, man, but I’m not helpin you with shit ‘til you get some pants on,” Mickey told him. It’d be a shame to cover the guy up, but it’d help Mickey hold on to his dignity.

“Uh, yeah, ‘bout that… I don’t have any.”

Mickey spared a moment to wonder if this guy was on something.

“You got no pants in your apartment?” he asked disbelievingly.

“I do,” Ian replied, slightly defensive. “Only… I’m kinda afraid to go into my apartment right now.”

“Oh, for fuck’s–”

“Can we please take this conversation inside?” Ian interrupted him. “Please, Mrs Bolton walks her dog every morning around this time. I don’t need her seein’ me like this.”

“Dunno, man, I’d be more worried 'bout the dog,” Mickey told him bluntly. Still, he stepped aside to allow the redhead passed him.

And felt no qualms about sneaking a peek at the guy’s ass as he hurried past.

_Nice._

“You’re not gonna steal my stuff, right?“

That earned him a dirty look. Satisfied that this wasn’t some sort of bizarre con, Mickey headed into his bedroom; he emerged a few moments later with a pair of pants.

“Here,” he muttered. Tossing the sweats that would undoubtedly be too short on the taller man, Mickey pointedly turned his back while Ian pulled them on.  

“Thanks,” Ian said at last.

“Now, you gonna tell me why the hell you’re afraid to go into your apartment? You got a clingy one night stand in there, or somethin’?”

Ian have him another irritable look. The guy was pretty pissy for someone who said he needed help.

“This is kinda embarrassing,” Ian told him seriously. 

“More embarrassing than standin’ outside my apartment with your ass hangin’ out?”

“Don’t make like you weren’t lookin’,” Ian snapped back.

Giving Ian an unrepentant smirk, Mickey waited for an explanation. 

“There’s a spider. In my shower.”

“You serious?”

At the other man’s slightly shamed nod, Mickey felt his lips twitch. He fought it for a few seconds before he caved.

With Ian’s indignant scowl only making things worse, it took a while for Mickey to contain his snickers.

“It’s not funny, asshole,” Ian growled. “That fucking thing’s 'bout as big as my hand.”

“Uh-huh.” Mickey took a deep breath to try to calm himself. “Alright, Little Miss Muffet, lemme see if I can get rid of the big, scary spider for you.”

“Don’t think I like you very much,” Ian told him.

“Wanna take care of it by yourself?”

Taking Ian’s sullen silence as a ’ _No_ ,’ Mickey led the way out of the apartment.

“How you doin’, Mrs Bolton,” Mickey greeted cheerfully. He bit back a smirk at the way Ian stiffened, and how the older woman’s eyes widened at the sight of Ian without his shirt, and in the too short sweatpants.

Rather than replying, she just watched as Mickey waited for Ian to open up his apartment door.

“Pest problem,” Mickey added as Mrs Bolton continued to stare. “You know how it is.”

“God, you are such an  _ass_ ,” Ian muttered under his breath.

Mrs Bolton didn’t seem to know how it was. So, after one last look between Mickey and Ian, she left with her little dog in tow.

Pushing the door open, Ian led Mickey over to the bathroom. Curious in spite of himself, Mickey took that opportunity to sneak a look around the place. It felt much homier than Mickey’s apartment, although not as messy. There were a few kiddy books lying around, a worn afghan on the couch.

“It’s in here,” Ian told him. He peered cautiously into the bathroom, then made an alarmed sound. “Shit.”

“What?”

“The little fucker’s gone,” Ian whispered.

“Thought you said it was huge.”

“We’re gonna quibble over this? Seriously? It’s probably laying eggs somewhere. There’ll be millions of these things all over the place!”

Mickey snorted a laugh; the sound died in his throat a moment later.

Because there was an enormous black spider on the wall directly above their heads.

“Christ almighty!”

Leaping out of the way, Mickey crashed into the opposite wall, Ian following shortly after him. They tripped over each other in their haste to get away, landing on the floor in a tangle of limbs.

“Shit,” Mickey panted. “What kinda fucked up mutant spiders are crawlin’ through this goddamn place?”

“I fuckin’ told you,” Ian snapped back.

They scrambled to their feet in an effort to put as much space between themselves and the demon spider. A moment later, there was a loud knocking sound; they both jumped.

“Open up!” a woman’s voice called.

Neither of them moved.

“Now!”

Mickey recognised that voice. Their landlady, Linda Karib, was a force to be reckoned with. She’d probably break the door down herself if nobody opened it for her.

“Go get it,” Mickey whispered to Ian, who had paled.

“Fuck.”

Casting Mickey an almost terrified look, Ian headed towards the front door, and cautiously pulled it open. He looked more afraid at the prospect of letting Linda in than of the mutant spider having millions of mutant babies.

“What is going on here?” Linda demanded. She didn’t wait to be invited inside. merely brushing past Ian. “Mrs Bolton told me she thought that you and the Milkovich kid were doing something illegal.”

It made Mickey bristle to be referred to as a  _kid_ , but he kept it to himself. But he couldn’t hold back his little huff of outrage at her next comment.

“Although, by the looks of things,” and here she paused to give Ian’s bare chest a significant look, “it’s more of a biblical misdemeanor than something the State of Illinois would object to.”

“No, it’s not that,” Ian broke in hurriedly. “There’s… a spider. It’s massive.”

“Yeah,” Mickey added. “And Ian asked me to help him get rid of it.”

“And did you?”

Mickey and Ian exchanged a confused look.

“Huh?” 

“Did you get the spider?” Linda asked slowly, as though she were talking to idiots. 

_Which, to be fair, wasn’t that far off._

“No.”

That earned them a martyred sigh.

“Well, I’m glad you found it. A tenant downstairs has a child who’s a budding arachnophile. Her mother reported that she’d lost one of her little pets.” She looked at them expectantly. “Do you plan on getting the spider any time today?”

“Uh…” Mickey hesitated.

“It’s too gross,” Ian burst out.

“Two grown men, laid low by the itsy bitsy spider.” Linda shook her head. “Get me a jar,” she ordered Ian. “That is, if you can handle it.”

Pulling a face, Ian hurried past her, carefully avoiding meeting her gaze. Mickey found himself doing the same thing in the few minutes he was left alone with Linda. He stared at a crack in the wall, a hole in the carpet,  _anywhere_  but at his landlady’s judgmental stare.

Silently, Ian passed the jar over to Linda.

“Where is it?” she asked, her tone businesslike.

“On the wall,” Mickey muttered.  _He half hoped the damn thing landed on her head._

Without further comment, Linda stalked into the bathroom. She was barely in there for five minutes before she emerged, the huge ass spider safely secured in the jar.

“Is there anything else you need me to take care of?” she asked solicitously. “Dust bunnies that are making you nervous?”

“No, we’re good,” Ian replied. Stopping just short of shoving the tiny woman out of the apartment, Ian shut the door behind her with a sigh of relief.

There was a moment of silence.

“Y’know, I think she’s the devil,” Mickey said casually.

“Probably got a point,” Ian muttered.

Now things got kind of awkward. Mickey had no business being here anymore, and Ian was half-naked, and wearing Mickey’s sweatpants.

“You wanna grab a coffee?” Ian asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“What?”

“As a thank you. For comin’ to my rescue, or whatever.”

Mickey thought about it for a minute. The guy did look pretty good in Mickey’s pants.

“Gimme five. I gotta brush my teeth.”


End file.
